


Timshel

by deathwailart



Series: Aedan Cousland [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Marriage, Married Life, Pregnancy, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anora is pregnant, Aedan joins her for her pregnancy, Loghain returns and there are mabari pups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timshel

**Author's Note:**

> [Legacy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1992165) would slot in during this, perhaps towards the end and [Glut](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2066496) would come after.

Even though it hurts to remember the life he had before, he remembers Fergus when Oriana was pregnant with Oren. At the time he'd still been annoyed by it all – bad enough to lose his big brother and partner in crime once when he was courting and then marrying some stranger brought into their home but once they'd both stood at dinner to announce her pregnancy he'd been insufferable. He understands now. He can't always be in Denerim because there's too much to do in Amaranthine, especially these days when they're rebuilding after he had to make the choice to save the Vigil and he's not about to leave that entirely to Nathaniel. He might be Aedan's second, someone who understands the people of Amaranthine better when he asks Delilah who was actually here instead of prancing around the Free Marches, something Nathaniel protests and calls work but Aedan never listens because he spent a year in _Kirkwall_ and everyone knows how mad that place is. Especially with the rumours about the youngest Vael prince off in the Chantry which is a pity because the time Aedan met him they helped themselves to most of the wine cellar and had a rather wonderful time.  
  
Well, what little he remembers seems rather wonderful so there's that.  
  
The Vigil, though in a far better state than Amaranthine given that he did not put it to the flames, is first to be rebuilt because it's easiest and because it's his responsibility. The halls are open to the displaced as a gesture of good faith and repentance though more than once he has to sentence a man or woman – or worse – for coming at him in a fit of vengeance for the loss of Amaranthine. He has said his goodbye to Morrigan though it broke his heart because he loves her and he desperately wants to see their son but he cannot leave Anora and his duties. So he busies himself with work because there's no shortage of it and the many missives between himself and Fergus who is doing a similar thing in Highever though that's almost done by now, at least the bulk of the external work. Letters of course to Denerim and to Anora. To Orlais and the Wardens there but mostly Loghain although he's sure every letter between them is intercepted and read by someone else first, just to be sure there are no schemes going on.  
  
More fool them because half the letters are fond digs at one another, Loghain's complaints about Orlesian frippery and the food, Aedan joking that he'll rescue him immediately, him astride a mabari with Oghren riding a keg pulled by nugs. Aedan's glad he's unlikely to ever meet the Orlesian Wardens in person because they'll either think it's a very elaborate code or, more likely, that Aedan is an idiot. Still, it keeps him going because sometimes you do need a bit of levity as he keeps reminding Nathaniel whenever he looks particularly dour as Delilah explains who they should listen to and who will only waste their time for their own personal gain  
  
The days and weeks drag on endlessly when he can't be around Anora. He's snappish towards the end of each day because – and Maker knows he understands – he's already missed two months when Anora waited to see if she was truly with child. The sooner they get through things here, the sooner he can go back to Denerim to be with her, to be the way Fergus was with Oriana. He honestly didn't understand it at the time, the way Fergus dropped everything but he was young and resentful and he'd be about to share the family quarters with something that would cry constantly so he'd gone off with his hound and Gilmore at first before he'd grudgingly come to enjoy being around Oriana. When he can finally leave with more haste than is probably seemly, forgoing the escort and just taking himself and his dog because the pair of them won't tire the way a horse would, less hassle too, he takes every shortcut he can, cutting down whatever stands in his path. There are Darkspawn still, a few of those horrible malformed creatures infected with the Taint and well, it wouldn't be Ferelden without bandits trying their luck.  
  
He takes comfort in the fact that he can still look like something other than a Warden-Commander, hero and prince-consort. It's useful, being able to blend in, to be able to travel. When he finally does make it to the capital he heads straight to the palace, clattering in through a servant entrance because he's exhausted and Anora would have his head if he appeared looking the way he does, filthy, mud splattered up his trousers, probably a few twigs and leaves in his hair and with the beginnings of a beard rather than his usual stubble.  
  
Except servants talk and well, the prince-consort seemed to evade his royal escort home and Anora is shaking her head when she finds him, freshly bathed and reclining in bed with some missives to catch up on what he's missed in Denerim and the rest of Ferelden, a similarly freshly bathed hound in front of the fire, snoring contentedly.  
  
"Husband," she greets, folding her arms and giving the most queenly look she can give him.  
  
"Wife," he replies, as though it hasn't been months since he last saw her, when he still wore a suit of armour scorched from his battle with the Mother.  
  
"Do I get an explanation as to the scene you caused?"  
  
"Can't a man be in a rush to get home? To see his wife and hold her," he begins, aiming for suave and missing by about a mile because he's actually rather stiff after sleeping on the hard ground again and wrestling a mabari into a bath so he stumbles, tripping over his own feet, the edge of the bedding and thin air before he steadies himself. Anora's lips twitch though so it's a victory. "To finally say hello to his unborn child."  
  
He doesn't mean for his voice to catch in his throat as he closes the distance between them, drawing her into a kiss and she must be done with official duties for the day because she doesn't protest when he finds the pins that hold her braids in place and plucks them free, carefully running his fingers through her hair until it falls in waves past her shoulders.  
  
"I've missed you," he whispers, bending so he can rest his forehead against hers, "Maker I've missed you Anora."  
  
"And I you Aedan. Both of us." There are tears in her eyes as she takes the pins from his hand as he kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her closed eyelids before sinking to his knees to reverently rest his head against her. His hands curve around her hips as he smiles through his own tears, her fingers stroking his hair.  
  
"Hello pup," he greets, thinking about how mother told him that father did the same with Fergus and then him, remembering all the times Fergus did the same with Oriana. "It's good to meet you at last." There's more he wants to say but he's overwhelmed and can't find the words so instead he kisses her clothed belly and only himself, Briala and healers would ever know that there's something different about Anora, a slight curve that wasn't there before and a Warden shouldn't be this lucky, honestly Aedan is always amazed when things actually get better but Andraste's blood he'll take whatever happiness he's given and will keep it close.  
  
"Come to bed," Anora urges, "I'll have someone bring a meal. I've wanted you home since I saw you after what happened in Amaranthine, I wanted you to be here when I first suspected."  
  
That night, after a meal shared in bed, both of them actually managing to discuss matters of state and Aedan resuming his appearances at court the next morning, he gets to fall asleep with Anora in his arms, waiting until she's dreaming to wriggle down the bed to talk quietly to her stomach, to their unborn child. Aedan's had an awful lot of adventures after all, he has to get them all in before the pup gets here.

* * *

  
  
It takes less than a week before Loghain arrives.  
  
Word reaches them by way of a courier so Aedan waits at the gates because as much as he loves watching Anora cut pushy nobles down to size, someone should actually greet Loghain so he waits, sitting on the steps until familiar armour comes into view. He gets to his feet and jogs to meet him, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Should I don my armour and grab my sword and shield?" He calls out, laughing when Loghain rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath. "Will the Orlesians march here to return you to their devious clutches in Montsimmard?"  
  
"Hardly." Loghain snorts, accepting Aedan's handshake. "As if anything would stand between me and seeing my daughter, especially when she's having her first child."  
  
"Good, because I think she'd have you flayed if you caused any sort of incident. She'd probably flay me too."  
  
Loghain laughs and allows Aedan to take his pack, stopping only to pet the mabari that charges over to greet him, slobbering all over the man's face and leaping around happily. "And hello to you too, you keeping good watch over your queen?" He waits for the hound to go still and bark. "Good boy."  
  
As ever, it warms Aedan's heart whenever he sees Loghain with any mabari though the man has never shown any sign of wanting one of his own. Perhaps Aedan's gift to Anora might change that though. "It's good to see you," he says at last and Loghain pulls him into an embrace, chuckling as he does so.  
  
"And you. I see you actually listened to me then, you and her, wonders will never cease."  
  
"I'd hate to be a disappointment."  
  
"And how is she?"  
  
"Well. It's Anora so I didn't know until she was _sure_ and I couldn't just abandon the Vigil or she'd have had my head on a pike or flogged me through the streets but..." He trails off, shrugging helplessly.  
  
"I can imagine, she always did keep going, always wanted to make sure things were done her way down to the letter." Servants bow as they enter the castle, never sure if they're to stand on ceremony for Loghain given no one is exactly sure of his current standing but Aedan pauses only to ask for a good hearty Ferelden meal to be brought to Loghain's room and to make sure someone is ready to draw a bath for him. "But in herself..." The father's concern comes out and Aedan smiles though he's worried himself after all because even if she does like to remind him that women have been having babies for a long time, there are always risks and tragedy can strike.  
  
"She's getting more rest than she usually would for a start. Erlina's made sure of that and now that I'm back I'm doing what I can to take the weight from her shoulders. We both know she can be like a mabari with a bone when there's something to be done but the timing is good, things are recovered enough to not need constant watching over them.  She's eating well, the healers all seem satisfied enough."  
  
"You sound as if you can't quite believe it."  
  
He gives Loghain a sidelong look as he escorts him – which still feels odd because Loghain has spent far more time here than Aedan ever will – to his rooms, a fire already kindled that his dog flops in front of happily as they settle into armchairs.  
  
"I know more about what being a Warden means," Loghain adds quietly when Aedan doesn't know what to say and he nods.  
  
"I...Maker, telling her that? I mean after Cailan and after some of Eamon's bloody comments too. I mean if we never had children it wouldn't have- I mean it would have mattered if it mattered to her," he clarifies, tripping over his words as his cheeks heat because this isn't the sort of conversation he ever imagined he'd be having with his father-in-law but here they are. "All she's done and this is what people want to reduce her to, if she can or can't have children."  
  
Loghain sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "It's how it is with these people. So concerned with blood and issue and so forth."  
  
"I was always glad I was the younger son and it never used to matter much apart from my parents telling me to be careful and not get a girl into any sort of trouble," Aedan admits, remembering how he'd wished the floor would open up and swallow him when his mother sat him down for a talk, his father struggling and failing to keep a straight face. "Then suddenly we're engaged, the Blight is ended, we're married and then even with everything else going on at home and elsewhere it still comes down to mutterings about how she's not getting any younger and she still hasn't had a child."  
  
"I'm glad she married you, you've got a good head on your shoulders, you care about _her_."  
  
"Was there ever any doubt?" Usually Aedan would use such words as a jest but he's sincere, ready to accept whatever Loghain might say as he sits up a little straighter and tries to prepare himself.  
  
"I won't lie, I didn't exactly trust you much at first. I know we've hashed this out before, you and me, Anora, the three of us but suddenly there you were and you and her had come up with some plan to get married and I didn't know how sincere you were about it. You'd disgraced me before the Landsmeet, you could have killed me then and there and most of them would have cheered. I know I did wrong, there are things I've done that can't be forgiven but you showed me a kindness I'd long forgotten. I suppose I held some hope then." Loghain's smile is unexpected but welcome as he actually looks at Aedan and not beyond him, remembering that fateful day in Denerim before Aedan even knew what ending the Blight would entail. "I knew about you and Morrigan and after seeing what Cailan got up to..."  
  
"I would never do that. I promised to be faithful to Anora, I won't deny that I loved Morrigan, that a part of me still does," and he knows about Rowan and Loghain, knows from the man himself when they spoke on the road before the Blight was ended. "I made a vow. I wouldn't do something like that to any woman."  
  
Loghain smiles again and leans over to pat his knee.  
  
"Your father raised a fine son, I...well, you killed Howe for that but I didn't hear of it until you brought the accusations to me."  
  
"It's in the past." Once he never thought he'd be able to move on from that day, from what happened to his home but he has. Howe's blood on his blade helped but time has done more for him than anything else.  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"I'll take my leave, I'm sure you'd like to wash up and rest before dinner, you and Anora will have plenty of catching up to do."  
  
"And I'm sure you'll be an eager spectator."  
  
Aedan laughs as he gets to his feet, whistling for his hound to follow, a spring in his step as he heads off to the study to get some work done. It feels good, all of them here like this, it feels even more like home than the Vigil.

* * *

  
  
In the end, Loghain might not be supposed to get too involved in Ferelden politics but he's got a keen mind and Anora and Aedan aren't fools so they have another desk added to the study and the three of them work together and begins plans for Ferelden's first university. Anora has commandeered the most comfortable of the three chairs and tends to have Aedan and Loghain trading off on who fluffs the cushion at her back. There are frequent letters from Amaranthine; Nathaniel keeping him up to date on the important things with his dry asides, Woolsey's reports on the trade situation, the odd almost indecipherable messages from Oghren, missives from the constable. The Vigil is in safe hands because Aedan has no plans to leave. He actually enjoys being at court even if it's just watching Anora rule but he realises he's not actually too bad at all this when he's not just winging it the way he had to at the Landsmeet. Teagan Guerrin proves to be something of a surprisingly good ally, considering how the Eamon and Alistair situation. He's a practical sort of man with a good sense of humour and they end up getting on well with the added bonus of Teagan checking in on Fergus.  
  
He's the sort of person Fergus needs if he's honest because even though Aedan has visited Highever and Fergus has come to Denerim, sometimes they don't know what to say to one another these days, ugly silences they struggle to fill and seeing his little brother with this life – a wife and a child on the way, a hero, an arl and prince consort, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden – well Aedan understands to the best of his ability. He just hopes that being an uncle will help somehow, that a new baby will be a real sign of moving on or that it'll give them something to talk about because the alternative is too terrible to consider.  
  
For a change, it's just Anora and Aedan, Loghain off with some older nobles who remember River Dane because for some people, Aedan was the one in the wrong for most of the Blight and Loghain is still a hero so he's more helpful than some might realise. He's got a powerful reputation, he's charismatic and his words still carry great weight. After all, he held the gates when Aedan took down the Archdemon.  
  
It did a lot to redeem his reputation.  
  
So Anora and Aedan, alone, working quietly until Anora's yawning enough that Aedan announces it's time to call it a day. Anora is now officially halfway through her pregnancy, her gowns tailored for her comfort and to exaggerate her middle because she's proud of it, golden and glowing and her morning sickness – all bloody day sickness in her words – has abated. Now the strange cravings have set in and Aedan is used to being woken or called for at odd hours to find whatever it is that she desires. The cooks keep the kitchens well-stocked and he knows most of them better than any other members of staff in the castle thanks to him staggering down in a robe and his smallclothes or bursting in when they're trying to cook dinner.  
  
"You're awfully good at this," Anora comments when he manages to procure her favourite dish only minutes after she remarks about how it's all she really wants.  
  
"I had a nephew," he says quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat because he's seen terrible things, Maker save him he has seen so much worse than finding a little boy dead but he wasn't used to it then. He'd been innocent even if he would have scoffed at such a notion at the time. He'd helped to teach Oren to read and write, yielding in battles with wooden swords, laughing and joking, still too young to really be an uncle. "When Oriana was pregnant," he continues after he composes himself, Anora's hand over his, "I used to do what I could. Usually so I didn't have to sit and talk to her and mother and all the ladies in waiting that were around but Fergus and I had a system – kept in her good graces by running off the kitchens at a moment's notice. Maker, Nan _hated_ the sight of me." He never thought the day would come but it gets easier to laugh about things like this, now he's able to look back and remember more than his father lying there, mother ready to defend him to the end as Duncan dragged him away from the burning ruins of their home.  
  
"I wish I could have met them," Anora says softly and he smiles as she reaches out and brushes away a few tears he hadn't noticed.  
  
"It looks beautiful now. Fergus has done a...it's not the same but there will always be Couslands in Highever. There's a nice spot, they're together, mother, father, Oriana, Oren. Duncan watching over them."  
  
"We'll go together," she vows and it's not that he forgets how much he loves her exactly but there are moments like this when he understands his mother and his father, Fergus and Oriana, the way he felt and still feels about Morrigan when he allows himself to think about her. "You, me, our child. He or she should know where they came from. A trip to Highever to meet their family."  
  
"To Gwaren," he continues, his turn to wipe away her tears. "Your mother as well. It might be too soon for your father to come to Highever but it'd be nice to spend real time with him before Montsimmard wants him back."  
  
"A family trip then, all of us, my father, the hounds-"  
  
"A small army of guards no doubt."  
  
Anora laughs, digging her elbow into his side. "They've waited a long time for an heir darling."  
  
"I think we're all capable of looking out for ourselves without half the court getting in the way. Don't you want to escape? Live dangerously?"  
  
"If this is your idea of living dangerously then I have to wonder at what the Wardens actually get up to."  
  
"Don't tell anyone but we're actually a dance troupe." She laughs and swats at him, setting her empty bowl to the side as she stretches out comfortably. "You should see your father dancing the remigold. You'd weep."  
  
Anora laughs so hard she has tears in her eyes and it takes her a long time to stop, wheezing helplessly and it starts him off until he's sore by the end of it.  
  
"I'm so glad you clattered into my life," she says at last.  
  
"As am I," he admits, cupping her face in his hands as he leans in to kiss her.

* * *

  
  
It's not exactly a requirement and technically, Anora has many mabari at her disposal from Aedan's hound and best friend to the entire kennels but he knows he'll feel better when she's got a mabari of her own the way he plans to find one for their child when they're old enough. Loghain agrees when Aedan tells him his plan and takes over for Aedan's duties of helping Anora get up and sit down, fetching her whatever she wants or needs and generally just hovering. It's a surprise, this gift, so he sets off, hound trotting along with him to finally find a young mabari for her. The kennel master is well-acquainted with Aedan's hound and presents him with a bone once he's recovered from being on the receiving end of a mabari charge after their time together when Aedan was first at the Vigil when he was siring pups that would hopefully have his strange resistance to the Taint.  
  
It's been a long time since Aedan has been around this many mabari and even though he knows he's going to get an older one, he of course clambers in with the little ones once their mother has sniffed him and licked his palm and cheek, squirming wobbling pups coming over to inspect him. He ends up on his knees, carefully lifting them and tickling their bellies, rubbing his nose against theirs and talking to them like a fool and thank the Maker no one much is around to see their prince consort behaving like this. He absolutely adores them all, especially when he meets the older pups, sired when Aedan took up his duties in Amaranthine, at that awkward ugly duckling stage where they're all legs and feet they haven't grown into. They knock him over and pounce, tugging his sleeves, licking his face, some even gnawing on his hair until his hound joins him and they all behave until he starts to play, letting Aedan sit back to observe them. This isn't a situation to be taken lightly but he's a good judge of mabari character, watching the pups play with one another and their father until one stops and stares at him, head cocked before approaching. He holds out a hand for it – she, he realises after a quick glance – to sniff before she circles him, sits to watch him, sniffs again then trots over to sit at his side. She leans in when he scratches behind her ears, eyes closed. She's tan in colour, dark around her eyes and muzzle, at the tips of her ears and at her toes and when another pup comes up to pounce on her, she has him pinned in seconds.  
  
It makes the decision easy and soon enough he's got her scooped under one arm as the three of them sneak up to his private chambers to get her a bath because the kennels aren't dirty but that many mabari and well, things are a bit pungent and Anora's sensitive to strong scents at the moment.  
  
And really, if something smells strong to Aedan then it's definitely on the foul side of things.  
  
He ends up rather soaked by the time he's drying her in front of the fire as she licks his nose and he'll need a bath too so he turns to his dog and sternly tells him to set a good example as he goes to bathe and change out of his dirty clothes into something clean. Loghain has appeared by the time Aedan is done, drying his hair roughly with a towel and there he is, "wrestling" with her, pretending she has him pinned as he begs for mercy.  
  
"And thus did Loghain Mac Tir, stalwart guardian of Ferelden, hero of River Dane, holder of the Denerim gates meet a foe who tested him sorely."  
  
Loghain laughs and sits up, the pup in his lap still, pawing at him to keep petting her. "So this is your big surprise then?"  
  
"Nothing in this world is fiercer than a mabari bitch," Aedan says simply as he throws his towel over to the pile in the corner. "Seemed like a good idea. She'll know what to do when our child is old enough to have a mabari of their own, should've seen her put a challenger in her place."  
  
"My girl, Adalla," Loghain begins softly and Aedan's throat tightens, "I loved her. Sweet temper, partner in crime." There's a whine from Aedan's mabari and Aedan's heard this story before, clenched his fists at the thought of someone mistreating a mabari. "There's something of her in your eyes little one." She barks, licking Loghain's chin and Aedan just about manages to swallow as Loghain ducks his head, tickling under her chin. "You look after my girl and I'll tell her the same about you."  
  
Aedan doubts Loghain will ever have another mabari but then he's got a family. Aedan's hound, this little one he's about to give to Anora – she's probably resting just now, it's about that time of day so Aedan can sneak in and surprise her properly – and the hound their child will have. Maybe that's enough for him.  
  
It's Loghain after all who gives him the ribbon they just about manage to tie around the pup's throat before Aedan heads off, pup up in his arms, wiggling with excitement all the way to the royal bedchamber where he gently sets her down on the bed so she can snuffle at Anora who wakes slowly, yawning and blinking until she looks between the pup, Aedan and back to the pup.  
  
"Husband?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as Aedan joins her on the bed, helping her to sit up.  
  
"A gift." He replies simply, grinning when the pup gently sets a paw on Anora's hand, requesting to be petted. "No finer gift for my queen and wife and mother of my child than a mabari."  
  
"She's beautiful, such a lovely colour and her eyes..." Anora carefully removes the ribbon only for the pup to grab it and there's a gentle tug of war then and there, Anora giggling like a little girl. "A fine gift. Does she have a name?"  
  
"That honour is all yours. She's one of his pups," he jerks a thumb at his hound who wags his tail happily, looking as proud as a hound can look.  
  
"Truly part of the family then."  
  
"A very Ferelden family," he confirms and Anora leans against him, smile on her face and he never ever wants to leave again.

**Author's Note:**

> Initially this was going to be the part of [A King and a Queen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/498870) that I sort of hinted at but then I finally rolled a Cousland and Alistair was executed and grandpa Loghain popped up instead so maybe consider it like the alternate universe version of this. Basically Anora stan Aedan Cousland who will probably talk about his son every five minutes instead of just talking about how awesome his wife is. Like honestly he has two subjects he alternates on and everyone at court and the Vigil has sort of learned to just smile and nod by now.


End file.
